


wishes in my heart (like grains of sand)

by Teaotter



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Gen, Post-Series, failed remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-14
Updated: 2013-01-14
Packaged: 2017-11-25 10:24:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/637903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Teaotter/pseuds/Teaotter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Buffy’s experience, if you knew about it ahead of time, it was <em>never</em> a good thing. Good things sneaked around. They drove old trucks and stayed in the Motel 6, or flunked out of college because they were too busy fighting warlocks to get their papers in on time. If the trumpets were blowing? Evil. </p><p>So she wasn't exactly expecting Christmas morning and kittens. But she was expecting a bit of warning, which was her only excuse for wandering over to the motel ice machine with nothing more dangerous than an empty plastic bucket.</p>
            </blockquote>





	wishes in my heart (like grains of sand)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Brother Love's Traveling Salvation Show](https://archiveofourown.org/works/62763) by [likeadeuce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeadeuce/pseuds/likeadeuce). 



> This was supposed to be a remix, but it isn't. I'm not sure it quite works at all, honestly, but then, I'm not sure it doesn't, either. This is a finished story, so it doesn't qualify for WIP Amnesty -- but this is definitely a Something-Amnesty fic. Read at your own risk.

It was a beautiful night: clear, cool enough for a jacket, with a sage-scented breeze wafting in off the desert. Without the city lights, the stars came out and glittered brilliantly in the black sky. Nights like this were probably the only reason normal people came to Albuquerque at all, much less decided not to just floor it until this overheated cookie-cutter town was nothing but a smear in the rear-view.

Buffy kind of liked it. Yes, it looked like all the other cities in the southwest. It had its kitschy adobe strip malls and cowboy hats, cheap taco trucks and expensive car washes. But it felt a little like someone’s home, even if it wasn't going to be hers.

It’s not as if she was here on vacation. A bunch of the local witches said there were some strange magical energies building out here in the suburbs, and Willow had volunteered their help. Buffy spent the day poking through one kitschy knickknack shop after another as Willow made her rounds, trying to get more concrete information than “Something’s coming,” and “It doesn't _feel_ evil.”

In Buffy’s experience, if you knew about it ahead of time, it was _never_ a good thing. Powerful good things sneaked around. They drove old trucks and stayed in the Motel 6, or flunked out of college because they were too busy fighting warlocks to get their papers in on time. If the trumpets were blowing? Evil. 

So she wasn't exactly expecting Christmas morning and kittens. But she was expecting a bit of warning, which was her only excuse for wandering over to the motel ice machine with nothing more dangerous than an empty plastic bucket.

Which meant she was on the other side of the shimmering motel pool when the sun disappeared. Along with the motel, Willow’s truck, all of her luggage, and every weapon she had with her. The giant tree that appeared beside her wasn't much of a consolation prize. Especially when it started talking.

“No freaking way,” Buffy told it, for what had to be the fiftieth time. 

The voice in her head was soft, green, and wheedling like a demonic three-year old. “One wish.”

Buffy shook her head and tugged against the thin switches holding her arms. Still no give. “Nope. No wishes.”

“Come on, just one wish.” Whining. The voice was _whining_.

If it weren't so damned annoying, it would actually be kind of pretty. The tree was huge, its branches reaching high up into the night sky. Buffy wasn't sure how high it had brought her, but the wind had picked up as it passed her from limb to limb. The leaves were huge and fuzzy, the bark soft and papery. All in all, it was about the least threatening demon tree she’d ever seen in her life. 

She'd been stuck in the tree for about half an hour now, and the worst that had happened was that her hands were starting to go numb from the tree-bondage. She'd ripped a few suckers off the tree here and there on the way, but all she'd managed was to make it leak sap all over her skin. The sap smelled like expensive perfume, but it itched. 

Buffy hoped Willow wouldn't laugh too hard when she showed up. 

“Look, just drop it. I don’t make wishes. The word doesn't even exist in my vocabulary.”

There was a pause. "But you just used it!"

"Did not." Buffy could almost hear it roll its eyes, and she mentally upgraded the tree from three to twelve.

"Whatever.” The tree’s sigh ruffled the leaves against Buffy’s arms. “Everyone wants something. I can give you what you want.”

“Please, can we just move on?” If she tilted her head a little, she could see a brilliant patch of stars. “Because one of my best friends dated, then dumped a vengeance demon –“

“Ouch --”

“-- On. Their. Wedding. Day. I never want to see another wish again.”

There was another pause. “All right, I can see why you might not want to take advantage of my offer. But it’s the only way to get out of my branches before morning.”

Buffy didn't exactly mind the branches thing, though she’d really like to scratch her arm right now. She didn't hear any screaming, and as long as the tree was busy with her, it probably wasn't hurting anyone else. Still, it _was_ a demon tree. “I've got an ax.”

The tree laughed. “In your pocket?”

“No. But I will totally go get it and chop you down.” It obviously wasn't her best threat ever, and the branches near her shivered in another laugh. 

“You cannot tell a lie?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, tree humor.” The branches holding her loosened a bit, and Buffy’s hands started to tingle as the blood came back. “Why do you keep threatening to kill me? Do you just hate trees for some reason?”

Buffy wiggled her fingers, but carefully did _not_ pull. Maybe if she distracted the tree enough, she could get free. “You grant wishes.”

“… And?”

Of course, it was still an awfully long way down. Buffy couldn't even see the ground through the thicket of leaves below her. “Every wish I've ever run into? Evil. They’re always about letting the vampires win, or ripping people’s internal organs out of their bodies. Wishes are evil.”

“You really need to find less violent people.” The tree’s voice was sympathetic. “ I've granted a lot of wishes in my time, and most of them were perfectly nice. There’s a little girl down there playing with her puppy, and a college student who’s winning at table tennis. Admittedly, most of them are just having sex, but that’s hardly hurting anyone.”

“Yet.” It was tempting to believe that nothing bad was going on. After all, Buffy did believe in miracles. She'd been to heaven. There was probably one kind, harmless wishing tree somewhere in the universe. But with her track record, how likely was it that she'd run into it?

The tree sighed again. “You’re awfully cynical for someone so young.”

"I've been busy." The tree branches were finally loose enough the she was sure she could break free. The fall wouldn't be too bad. Probably. "Now, are you going to release all these people, or do I need to go get my ax?”

Buffy felt the branch she was on shift in a shrug. “Sorry. I can’t release anyone until morning.”

Buffy paused, muscles tense to pull away. "Can't? Or won't?

Suddenly, the tree shuddered, a thick vibration rather too much like an earthquake for Buffy's SoCal memories. She found herself swinging up to hug the trunk, bracing one foot on another branch. The suckers slid off her arms easily now. Damn them. “What the hell was that?”

There was a wordless moan from the tree. It was disturbing, in the sense that whatever was frightening a tree of this size was probably not the best thing. When the worst of the trembling stopped, Buffy started to slide downward, grateful for the smooth skin of the trunk as she slid down til her feet hit another branch. 

“Help!" The tree's voice was frantic. "He’s hitting me with an ax!”

“Oh." Not a bigger demon, then. Buffy continued her downward path. The tree seemed more concerned about whatever was going on below than stopping her. "I guess my night’s looking up.”

There was another shock, and further tremors. “Tell him to stop!”

“Let me think about that for a second." The next set of branches coming from the trunk were too big to slip past, so she climbed under them. She still couldn't see the ground. "Hmm. I say: No.”

"You'd better." The tree moaned again as another shock hit. "If he kills me, none of us will get out of here."

Buffy stopped. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, this is a pocket dimension! That's how I grant wishes. I can't open it again til morning. Without me, you'll all be stuck here. Forever."

Buffy clenched her hands. That explained the clear sky, the brilliance of the stars. It wasn't just a lack of lights from Albuquerque. Damn. “At least you’ll be dead. That’s a bonus.”

The tree shivered. “So will everyone else who’s made a wish tonight.”

The blows had been rhythmic and steady—if Buffy was right, the tree was about to be hit again. She didn't know if she believed it or not. She also didn't know how many blows it would take to bring down a tree this size. In any case, she needed to buy enough time to be sure. At this point, the tree trunk was too big around to get a grip on, and Buffy could just see a hint of pale sand through the dancing leaves. The line of a person's shoulder, the flash of metal. She wasn't too far up.

She dropped, branches whipping by on all sides, slowing her fall and moving her away from the target. She got a glimpse of a boy's face just before she fell, slightly out of range. Buffy rolled with the impact. She was expecting the sound of the next blow on the trunk, but it didn't come.

By the time she rolled to her feet, the boy was resting the point of the giant ax on the ground near his feet. He was gangly and dark-haired and grinning from ear-to-ear. It took Buffy a moment to realize why he looked familiar. She'd only seen his photo the once.

"Connor?"

"Buffy!" Somehow, the grin got bigger. "I should have known you'd be here, fighting the demon. I mean, where else would you be?"

Buffy got up and started dusting herself off. "Lots of places, actually. I was looking for the ice machine."

Connor's brow wrinkled in puzzlement. "Really?"

"Sort of?" Buffy waved a hand. "Never mind. What are you doing here?"

"Cutting down a demon tree."

"Yeah, about that." Buffy put a hand on the ax handle. Connor's hand flexed under hers, but he didn't let go. "The tree says we'll all be trapped in this pocket dimension if you cut it down."

Connor snorted. "And you believe it?"

Buffy shrugged, but she didn't let go of the ax, either. "Not really. But I'd like to be sure before we go hacking down our only way home."

Connor's hand flexed again, then loosened enough to let her take the ax. "Yeah. You're probably right."

Buffy hefted the ax in one hand, and pulled Connor away from the tree. She had no idea what the tree's hearing range might be, but she wanted to be out of range of those branches.

In every direction away from the tree, the desert stretched out, largely unmarked. It was flat and almost barren, only the occasional scrap of dry grass peeking through dry grass and hardpan. The smell of sage was stronger, even though there was no sage in sight. The stars practically leapt across the sky. It was so beautiful, it hurt to look at. Buffy pretended it was the wind stinging her eyes and refused to pay attention to the way they watered.

There were people here, in ones and twos. She couldn't see them until she and Connor were almost upon them; everything looked empty until they got close enough. But sure enough, there was the sound of ping pong, and a child's laughter, and some rather obvious moaning coming from a spot Buffy studiously avoided. At least there wasn't any obvious screaming. Yet.

"What I asked earlier," she said, trying to distract herself. "I meant what are you doing in Albuquerque? Assuming you were really in Albuquerque, and this problem isn't a lot bigger than I thought."

"No, I was there." Connor ducked his head. Even so, he was still taller. How could her ex-boyfriend's son be taller than she was? "I'm interviewing at the University. They've got a program for prospective freshman to stay in the dorms for the weekend."

How could her ex-boyfriend's son be old enough to go to college? Buffy felt incredibly old, as if her own years at college were centuries behind her. Of course, she told herself, when your ex-boyfriend was that much older, she should be grateful Connor was younger than her at all. 

"Why here?"

Connor shrugged, looking tongue-tied now that there wasn't anything to hit. "They've got a great anthropology department."

Buffy stopped. The tree's silhouette still dominated the sky behind them, but she figured they were as far away as they could get. She was pretty sure they'd climbed this hill before. "Why anthropology?"

“Yeah, well. I can read a dozen ancient demon scripts. What else should I do with it?" Connor scuffed at the desert sand, and looked over at Buffy. Sure enough, their footprints were there. "I think we've reached the end of our pocket universe here. We can keep walking --"

"But we'll end up back here anyway, I get it." Buffy brushed a bit of loose sand off a rock and sat down. "Did you see what happened? All I saw was this shadow before the tree was there."

Connor crawled up on one of the other rocks, looking perfectly comfortable on it. "Yeah, that's pretty much what I saw. The tree-shadow hit, and everyone started acting –“

“Strange.”

“-- I was going to say happy, but yeah, for most people? That’s strange.”

Buffy laughed. "I guess so."

They sat in companionable silence for a moment.

“What kind of demon do you think it is?” Connor asked finally.

"No idea," Buffy admitted. "I never was good with the book stuff. But it says it’s a wishing tree.”

Connor's face grew stern. “Nothing good comes from wishing.”

"I know! I said that. I'm glad someone believes me.”

Connor tilted his head back the way they came. “ _All_ of those people made wishes?”

"Yeah. Well, according to the tree, at least."

Connor ducked his head again. “They _look_ happy,” he said slowly.

Buffy nodded, just as slowly. “But it’s still a demon-tree.”

“Yeah." Connor shook his head. "Boy, this is easier when they're trying to eat you." He flushed. "Maybe not easier, exactly --"

Buffy laughed again, but she knew what he meant. It never occurred to her before to go looking for Connor. He was Angel's son, and it always felt kind of weird thinking that he existed at all. But there weren't a lot of people she could talk to who really understood what the world was like. At least for people like her. “Yeah, I know what you mean. You know where you stand."

"We can't just sit around all night."

“Willow’s out there somewhere." Buffy gestured vaguely, though she wasn't sure if Willow was in this dimension with them, or if she'd managed to avoid getting tree-napped. "If anyone can get us back, she can.”

“And if she can’t?”

Buffy smiled wryly. “We can make a killing selling sand on the black market.”

Connor laughed harder than the weak joke deserved. It was a little forced, and Buffy wondered if he felt just as awkward about talking to her as she did.

“Sooooo. Since we're stuck here for a while --" Buffy wracked her brain, looking for a topic. " -- Tell me about the family.”

Connor's face closed. “Which one?”

Buffy kicked herself mentally for asking something awkward, then shrugged. It wasn't as if she couldn't understand that, either. “Pick one. I didn't always have a sister, you know.”

Connor's frown eased, but it didn't quite leave. “I hadn't thought of that. Things are complicated. Either way.”

"Yeah, I know that," Buffy agreed. "Dawn's all I have left, and I usually want to strangle her. It can't be easy on you."

"No, not really." Connor looked down at his feet again. "I don't want to be like him."

"Then you're way off base." Buffy laughed, and he looked up angrily. "I just mean—I find you hacking down a wishing tree instead of being strangely happy in whatever wish you'd make. That's not exactly what normal people do."

"I don't want to be normal, either."

"Yeah. Normal's totally overrated."

"What would you have wished for?" At Buffy's frown, Connor backpedaled. "Not that I think you should make one, I'm just asking --"

Buffy stared off at the tree for a long time. Connor seemed content to let her think. "I don't know. I really don't. It's been such a long time since I thought about more than the next thing in front of me, you know? Not that I'm complaining—I'm happy, most of the time. Life's good. Better since we got more Slayers."

"But?"

Buffy looked up at the stars. They really were brilliant. She thought about the desert scent wafting toward them, and the bright sunny city she'd been walking around in all day. Somebody else's home. All the cities they've been through, all the places she'd left. Sunnydale, a giant pit in the desert. The longing was sharp and painful, but she was used to it. 

"But nothing. I'm happy." She didn't sound convinced, so she cleared her throat. "Really."

Connor ducked his head. "Yeah. Me too." He sounded about as convinced as she did.

After another long silence, Connor looked over at her again. “What do we do if Willow doesn’t find us?”

Buffy shrugged, grateful to be distracted from her thoughts. Even if it meant thinking about the possibility of imminent violence. Or maybe because of it; problems were always easier to solve when she could hit them. “If the tree was telling the truth? Nothing.”

Connor's mouth started to curl in a grin, as if the thought of imminent violence was easier for him, too. “And if everyone starts screaming?”

Buffy grinned back. “There’s still the ax.”


End file.
